Cicatrix
by Rhiann
Summary: Rosalie explains a few things to Bella. Edward isn't exactly grateful.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: Twilight_ and all related elements © Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company 2005. All characters and situations—save those created by the author for use solely in this fan fiction—are copyright Stephenie Meyer __and are used without permission. No profit is made off this story and is for entertainment purposes only._

A.N.: Now reuploaded for your viewing pleasure!

My personal little response after reading so many "Bella is changed" fics. Personally, I think the vampire thing is more tragic than romantic. This is heavily based on some of my own theories about the Twilight 'verse, although some have them have been shot down due to certain updates on the TL. However, since I thought they'd particularly parallel Rosalie's line of thought, they remained.

oOo

The sun was setting through the filmy windows and over the tops of distant buildings. Streetlights sputtered to life with an ozone hum, casting shadows on the half-full parking lot. Little clusters of insects flitted desperately to the new heat source, lit brightly as they pathetically beat themselves against the burning glass. Rosalie decided she hadn't ever seen a more depressing sight.

Other than the selection at this pitiful little boutique, that is.

"You know, I think they may have more wearable things in the men's section," she said dryly to her companions, dragging her mind off useless creatures that were drawn to things that killed them. The pick of the little boutique was certainly useless; although the store did have a certain charm- Esme would have thought it was adorable. It had been her idea for the shopping trip- a girl's night to get to know each other, she had said. Which meant Rosalie was trapped within the company of one Bella Swan, walking tragedy. And Alice, of course.

"Come on, Rose!" Alice cheered, her voice muffled. Alice Cullen was presumably trapped between rows of clothes, swimming in a sea of polyester blends. It was rather tragic, Rosalie thought, eyeing her comrade, although she couldn't seem to completely stifle the urge to join her. Finally reemerging, Alice gestured towards the door with a turquoise top that even on the hanger seemed to swallow her whole. "We can always go to another one, if you want."

Rosalie made a non-committal noise in the back of her throat. Alice seemed to thrive on the alien smell of shopping malls.

"Seriously, have you found a single thing?" Alice added, not to be dissuaded by Rosalie's seeming lack of interest- she knew her too well to believe that. Her perfect nose wrinkled. "I thought you wanted to find-"

"You've found enough for the both of us," Rose interrupted, amused. They both looked down at the small mountain of clothes Alice had draped over her arm. Alice shrugged happily, balancing on the balls of her feet.

"You should go try them on before this place closes," Bella cut in with a smile, pushing past her own pile of discards.

"You're probably right," Alice conceded, giving her armful a generous theatrical heft. Rosalie looked at Bella through narrowed eyes.

Self-conscious, Bella moved almost imperceptibly closer to Alice and tucked a strand of hair under her ear; and Rosalie hated her for the gesture, such a human gesture._ My, how _insane_ we are lately, _said a voice in her head that sound strangely like Edward, enough that she had to remind herself the vampire was nowhere nearby. He, of course, was ridiculously still in Forks with Jasper and Emmett, and she was stuck here shopping in a little clunky store with Alice and _Bella_.

"I'm going to go try these," announced Alice. "Are you trying anything?"

Rosalie shook her head. "I'm going to keep looking."

"I'll come," Bella said brightly, trying to cover her earlier discomfort. "I didn't find anything, but…"

"I think I'll be okay," Alice said decisively, appraising the mountain of clothes with an arched eyebrow. "This might take a while."

"Oh," she stated, surprised.

"You should help Bella find something, Rosalie," Alice said innocently, and Rosalie turned to glare at her as Bella looked slightly perturbed at the idea. She should have suspected a set-up.

"And be nice," hissed Alice as she passed, soft enough that only she could hear. Rosalie rolled her eyes. She looked over at Bella and let out a small suffering sigh. She could be nice. But it didn't mean she needed to talk.

They sorted through the racks in silence. A fly buzzed against a window, punctuating the swoosh of fabrics and Rosalie began to wish Alice would just pick something as the dead, dull stillness began to weigh in on her. She listlessly pushed away a gaudy yellow shirt. It had been Bella's idea to come here. Well, Alice had spotted it and wanted to go but Bella had agreed. Her fault.

She moved through the rows hanger by hanger until she felt her brain go numb to everything but brand recognition.

"What's your favorite color?" She cracked. She hated quiet.

"Huh?" Bella, ever so eloquent.

"Color. Favorite color."

"Oh," she sounded slightly flustered. Rosalie didn't care. Anything to break the damn silence. "Um. Blue, I suppose, today."

Rosalie rummaged through a row until she picked out a few different pieces that didn't look _too_ hopeless. "Here. You're a size…?"

"Those are fine."

She handed them to her. "Thanks," Bella responded, a little warily. The clicking of the hangers sounded incredibly annoying. Was there no one else in Washington who needed tacky tops?

"What…about you?"

Rosalie blinked, sidetracked off her mission to craft mean-spirited diatribes. "My favorite color?"

"No- yes. And your size."

"Oh," she said, thinking. "Red. And small. It's always small."

"It must be nice…never to change size," Bella volunteered.

Startled, Rosalie looked at her incredulously. Bella looked stung, and nervous, but she didn't back down.

"Well…isn't it?"

Rosalie was still staring. _God, where did she get these things?_ The silence lapsed between them again for a few moments. Bella was looking at her, no fear in her gaze, just honest, hopeful curiosity. Rose finally let out an unladylike snort and went back to her sifting.

"I mean, I know, it's hard. To be…like you." _Was she still talking?_

"You can't know," Rosalie said, her voice dull. "You can never honestly even hope to _comprehend_-"

"But I _can_," she retorted earnestly, "I want to know-"

"But that's just _it_," Rosalie shot back hotly. "You _don't_." She was suddenly angrier than she had been in months, angrier than she had been when Edward had brought this human into their world, into her _home_.

"_You_," she spat, "are an _ignorant_, foolish _child_."

The harshness of her own tone surprised her, despite her anger. Bella caught herself in a half step as she instinctively moved away. Rosalie could almost taste the adrenaline that automatically coursed through her body. A fight-or-flight reaction, and she was obviously too stupid to flee, for her face grew hard a half a second later.

"I am not a _child_."

"You're a _child_ if I say you're a _child_, _Bella_," she spat. Bella made an angry defensive sound, but Rosalie ignored her. "It's a very romantic notion, isn't it, eternal life? Eternal beauty, eternal love, they all go hand in hand in this _choice_ of yours." Her tone turned mocking. "You'll be young _forever_. Unchanged, _forever_. You'd be with Edward, _forever_. You can hold hands and lose yourself in each other as the world passes you by. Years, after years, after years, _forever_. Never to grow older, to see your children, to get old, to bleed, to die." Her voice, she knew, was full of bitter venom.

Bella was silent, her gaze focused on Rosalie. In that moment, Rose hated her. She just didn't understand. No one understood, until it was too late.

"You tell me how Edward loves you," she continued in a contemptuous half-whisper, slightly turning at the waist to run her fingers down a piece of cloth. "How much of it, do you think, is because you're _human_?" The human seemed to flinch, but Rose didn't wait for her answer. "He loves the warm smell of you, the way the blood runs through your veins, the way you blush, the way you're so _alive_."

She was blushing now, the color high in her cheeks not from embarrassment, but from anger. "I-"

"I'm not finished," Rosalie's voice cracked like a whip. "Before you give yourself over to your endless throes of romanticism, I want you to think about something." This time, she looked at her straight in the face, and it was Bella who looked away. "How long do you think _forever is_, Bella? And how long after that? Do you have any idea of what encompasses forever? How a person can change in twenty years? In a hundred? In a _thousand?_

Edward needs you because you remind him of his humanity. He's been dead for nearly a hundred years. _We_ _are_ the walking dead, and part of him loves you because you make him believe it isn't so. Esme and Carlisle have their empathy; Alice has her visions, Jasper holds on to his ability to touch human emotions." _And Emmett and I have the brief moments where we can just feel and forget_, she thought, but didn't say it out loud. "We _aren't_ human. We can't ever _be_ human again. We _feed_ on humans. Are you just willing to abandon the human race? Your family?"

"I wouldn't abandon them," Bella replied stiffly. In the opposite row, Rosalie could hear another customer approach, slow down to accidentally-on-purpose eavesdrop. She gave a hard metallic wrench to a hanger, and the woman scurried away.

"Oh?" Rosalie raised her eyebrows. "Then, what? You'd try and turn them, too?" She could see a hot bubble of protest form in front of her and waved a hand nonchalantly to silence her.

"You want to know what it's like?" She demanded and was somewhat gratified to notice how Bella's upper body seemed to stiffen. "You'd smell your mother, your father. You'd hear them, full of supple, warm humanness, you'd marvel at how _alive_ they were. You'd crave to touch them, feel their warmth against you. And most of all, you'll wonder how they'd _taste."_ Her voice turned soft, almost caressing. "If they'd struggle, at all, if you were to come into their rooms, one night…smelling them, feeling their warm presence, feeling every single wave of their heartbeat on the air…touch them with cold fingers like you used to, kiss them with cold lips as you used to, until…"

Bella was standing shock still, like a mouse caught in the eyes of a snake

"You would dream about it," she continued, stepping closer to the girl. "The way your father would say your name once, just once, begging you to stop as you killed him. Pleading for mercy. You'd think about your mother's strong, sweet blood pumping into your cold body, filling you, running through your veins. It would be like being reborn," she hissed softly.

Bella's breath was coming shallower, her face even more pale than before. She almost looked like one of them.

"Think about that," Rosalie finished, smiling terribly. "Think about what you'll lose before deluding yourself about what we are. You have a choice. I didn't."

"Well, I couldn't find a single thing!"

Alice's voice cut into the room, shattering Rosalie's spell. With a jerk, Bella broke away from her stare and slid another hanger away.

"Did you find anything, Bella?"

"Oh…no." Bella slid the few blue things Rosalie had found back on the rack. Rosalie let out a long suffering sigh.

oOo

The trip back had been nearly silent, with only Alice breaking the silence with a quip once in a while, trying to stir up conversation. Bella had sat quietly in the back seat, Rosalie broodily swerving through traffic, fielding Alice's attempts halfheartedly.

"Bella? Bella, did you hear me?" Alice asked as they pulled into the Cullen driveway.

"What?"

"Edward told me he wanted to take you home. Something about having never trusted Rosalie's driving." Alice smiled pleasantly and Rosalie made a face.

"Oh," Bella said. "Yeah, I know."

Alice caught Rosalie's eye in a knowing and disapproving look. What did you say? She mouthed. Rosalie shrugged.

The Volvo was parked halfway up the driveway and Rosalie maneuvered the convertible around it, resisting the urge to skim close enough to mar the paint job. He had parked that way just to annoy her.

She put the car in park and Bella slid out of the back easily, walking towards the curb, smiling weakly as Edward stepped out of the car. Rosalie watched as he opened the passenger door for her and suddenly, whipped around to stare at her through narrowed amber eyes. He ducked into the Volvo to say something to Bella and walked towards the convertible with liquid, feral grace. She thought briefly about rolling up the window.

"What happened?" he said in a smooth tone that belied the steel behind it. She looked accusingly at Alice, who shrugged.

_Get out of my head, Cullen, _she warned him mentally, and he gave her a grim little smile.

"What?" she said, annoyed.

"Alice thinks Bella's upset about something," he retorted, his eyes now gone hard

Alice turned in her seat to look at her. Suddenly she felt tired and apathetic about anything concerning Edward, at all. Ridiculous, overdramatic _prick_.

"I told her what you were all afraid to," she stated aloud, not caring if Alice heard. "What she _had _to hear." _And get out of my head and away from my car, or I'll disconnect your break lines the next chance I get_, she thought fiercely.

He looked angry, but turned around sharply, the set of his shoulders tense. "We'll talk about this later."

"I'm ecstatic just thinking about it."

"Stay away from her."

_My pleasure. _Watching him move smoothly to the opposite side of the Volvo, she silently willed him several dents and a transmission failure.

Seconds later, the Volvo revved to life and backed out incautiously, speeding away, roaring the streets as if it, too, was challenging her. She waited until it disappeared amidst the other cars before stepping out, avoiding the expression on Alice's face.

"Rosalie."

She couldn't help it; she turned and looked at her. Her expression was an odd mixture of understanding and sympathy, and Rosalie pushed the thought of either away, preferring anger. An unexpected wealth of sadness sprung up around her, and for a minute, she let herself just feel.

It felt good.


	2. Flight and Fight

_Disclaimer_: Twilight_ and all related elements © Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Company 2005. All characters and situations—save those created by the author for use solely in this fan fiction—are copyright Stephenie Meyer __and are used without permission. No profit is made off this story and is for entertainment purposes only._

Second chapter, what what? I blame the Rosalie-Edward interaction at the end of the last part. It kind of haunted me. This bit is much less angsty- _or is it_?

NOTE: This one has some **more intense language** than the last chapter and surely earns its rating- don't read it if that sort of thing bothers you, please.

Hope you enjoy the unexpected sequel…I had fun.

oOo

Rosalie was watching the bird, and the bird was watching Rosalie.

She liked birds, although the only one she had ever willingly admitted it to was Emmett. She had tried to touch one once, a little robin she had found trembling on the ground one early spring. She had reached out a slim white finger, just once, to touch its feathered wing as it flittered in fear. The frantic beating of its heart had increased dramatically. Adrenaline. Life. She touched the wing and heard its heart explode.

She didn't try to keep birds anymore. She just watched them, sometimes.

She made a face at the sparrow, crinkling her nose in a way that always made Emmett laugh and kiss her, if they were in private. In public he knew better.

It broke the spell, anyway, and the bird took flight in a rustle of feathers. She was glad for it. Rosalie had better things to do than moan over birds.

It bothered her that she was up in her room.

Being up here implied some sort of self-imposed exile, and she had done nothing to deserve it. She was sitting by her window, knees curled up in front of her, looking out. Being up here was usually a sanctuary, but today it felt as if she was hiding. She bristled at the thought. She wasn't afraid of anything- _anyone,_ for that matter, and if Edward thought she was doing this to avoid him he could go-

Not that Edward had any reason to think that she would avoid him.

Why should she?

She was here to recover from the mall- from _shopping_. That was it. It had nothing to do with anything else. In fact, who cared? About anything, anyway? She was fine.

The groaning roar of a Volvo, still far away, startled her and she jumped off the seat.

To go to vanity.

Right.

She peered into the mirror, frowning, and the sight of her own reflection immediately calmed her. She tapped the end of her perfect nose as the roar rose in volume. Edward was back.

She half-heartedly picked up a hairbrush- never really needed, actually, her hair didn't tangle easily- and put it down again.

If she stayed up here, he might think she was hiding from him. That was tantamount to an admission of guilt.

She had to go down.

Dammit, dammit, _dammit_.

She flung the door open a little forcefully, moving quickly down the stairs, but not quick enough to miss stomping therapeutically on a few of them.

Jasper was sitting on the couch, reading a book. He hadn't looked up as she came down, and she felt annoyance claw its way up her chest. So she was just something to be ignored, was she?

"Where's Emmett?" she said sharply, the words feeling high and tight in her throat.

Jasper looked up slowly, raising an eyebrow as his curly hair fell half into his glasses and she felt dim-witted. Jasper had a way of doing that, making you feel unreasonable when you had all the reason to _not_ be reasonable.

"He's with Carlisle," he said with a smile. "He wanted to do some more hunting. I think he was missing you."

"Ha!" she retorted. She strode over to the bookshelf. Jasper watched her. Rosalie picking up a book would be a new, interesting development in the Cullen house.

She grabbed the nearest one and flipped through it harshly, then deliberately dropped it on the floor and glared at Jasper, daring him to say something.

He didn't even flinch. Rosalie let an exasperated noise escape her and sat down in a winged armchair, glowering at the window. Slowly, Jasper stood and walked over to where the fallen book lay, half open. He picked it up and vigilantly brushed off the pages with long fingers, carefully sliding it back into its proper place on the shelf.

She watched him do it. He probably had them in fucking alphabetical order.

"Is something the matter, Rosalie?" Jasper said chivalrously.

His voice was easy, slightly sardonic. She chose not to answer. Let _him_ be ignored.

Jasper observed her carefully, and inwardly sighed. He didn't need any of his talents to read this particular mood. Rosalie could be quite…volatile, at times. He wondered vaguely how he could get her out of the room, or if it would be better just to retreat to his study.

"How can you _read_ with that racket outside?"

He tried very hard to concentrate on his book. Funny how it had seemed easier ten minutes ago.

The front door swung open and slammed shut in the foyer and Rosalie shot out of her chair like a scalded cat.

"About _time_," she snarled, exiting quickly with long strides.

Well, focusing on Polidori would be nearly impossible, now. He sighed in frustration and tossed the book- gently- down beside him.

"I foresee- a great conflict," a musical voice announced with a lilt of amusement, and he felt some of the aggravation seep out of him. Alice slipped into the room.

"I could have predicted that."

"I think a rock could predict conflict when Rosalie's around."

He smiled at that. Alice perched herself on the armchair of the couch, careful not to disturb his pile of books. "She and Edward are going to have words."

"Probably fists, too."

"That's not nice, Jazz."

"Mmm," he agreed, eyeing her.

Alice grinned. "They need kind, respectable friends to play referee."

"It's very good that we are neither kind nor respectable then, isn't it?"

His hands shot out and grabbed hold of her waist, dragging her down on top of him. She laughed.

"Very," she whispered, and kissed his ear. He closed his eyes, loving the feel of her, and her mouth moved lower down his neck. His breath caught in a soft gasp. Alice's short hair brushed against his forehead and his eyes flew open, reveling in the small motions of her. She always smelled so damn good.

Rosalie burst back into the room, trouble on two legs. "He's still in the driveway!"

Jasper exhaled loudly, Alice reluctantly shifting away from him.

"Oh?" said Alice, looking a little exasperated herself. "Are you looking for Edward, Rosalie?"

Rosalie glared at her nastily. "Of course not."

That was it. Jasper looked at her, letting an aura of serenity settle over him and the room. "I'm sure everything is fine, Alice."

Rosalie still looked irritable. "Of course everything is fine."

At least her voice had gotten less shrill.

The front door slammed and a few seconds later, Edward strode into the room with an air that said he was the furthest thing from serene. Jasper mentally said a sad goodbye to quiet. And, also, what probably was impending sex. He still quite cross about the sex.

"Hello, Edward," he said wearily.

Edward gave him a curt nod, his shoulders stiff. The entire line of his body seemed almost forced into sharp, focused angles. Rosalie knew the look- after nearly a centaury of knowing Edward, of course she did. She shot back her best disdainful stare. She wasn't avoiding him.

As if she had a reason to.

He twisted around suddenly and looked at her, eyebrow raised imperiously.

"You bastard," Rosalie swore coolly, her hands crossing gracefully in front of her bodice. "I _told_ you to stay out of my head-"

He just looked at her. Maybe he needed reminding.

"The death threat? To your car? I thought you would have at least given a thought about the car," she said in mock surprise. "Even if-"

"It's natural for me," Edward cut her off with a shrug, completely unapologetic.

"That doesn't mean-"

"Could you stop your…gifts?"

She opened her mouth, and closed it again.

He smiled slightly. Now he was openly mocking her. And he was probably still perusing her thoughts like random radio channels.

"That would explain the bad reception I'm getting, then?".

_LA LA LA, mmm, Emmett in a TOWEL,_ she mentally shouted, her shoulders flying back, glaring at him. _Oh, WHAT A NICE BACKSIDE he has-. _

Edward made a face. "No need to get lurid," he said softly, looking at her over long lashes.

She felt petulant, but she didn't care. "_You_ stay out of my thoughts."

He shrugged, turned away. Jasper and Alice, sensing a clean getaway, had slipped out of the room.

Elusive little vampires lately, weren't they?

"_So_," he said with a sarcastic attempt at joviality; "How was shopping?"

"Sad we didn't pick you up another nice sweater?" she asked innocently. "I noticed the apparent subscription to _Metrosexual Weekly_ you've been getting. Tell me, is it the first or second commandment that your shirt must match your shoes?"

"Third," he responded acerbically. "The first and second are about proper hair and teeth care."

"Right. Such a shame you haven't mastered those yet."

"Weak, very weak, Rosalie. How was the ride back to town?"

"Fine," she said bracingly.

"Alice didn't seem to think so."

"Alice thinks any shopping trip that doesn't end with her coming home with half the store is a failure."

His eyes were hard. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"No, I don't," she retorted.

He raised an eyebrow at her. Damn telepaths, damn them to hell.

"I doubt that," he said.

All this angry sneering she was doing was probably very unattractive, but she was so inspired. _Doin' a little dance, makin' a little love, GET DOWN TONIGHT_, she thought fiercely.

He almost seemed to flinch, and scowled at her. "I truly hated the 70's, you know."

She smiled so all her teeth showed. "Oh, believe me, I know."

He narrowed his eyes at her. Rose hummed a few verses to herself lightly in caution, watching him beadily.

"I want to know," he said flatly, "_exactly_ what you said to Bella."

Finally cutting to the chase. She dropped her 'best hits of 1975' act unceremoniously. "I didn't say anything that didn't need to be said."

"You mean, in your very informed, mastermind opinion," Edward snarled. "Are you that threatened by a human, Rosalie?"

"You're besotted, aren't you?" she spat. "Here I was thinking it was the girl who was being idiotic. Now I see that, while she is, undoubtedly, very stupid, it's you who's completely blind."

"You don't know anything," he said dangerously.

"Funny how none of us seem to."

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. Rosalie could be so infuriating, at times.

_I hope he knows he looks very constipated when he does that. _

_All_ the time.

"Not all of us are clueless, Rosalie," he grated.

"Just you, then?"

He opened his mouth to make a scathing retort, but Rosalie, now in for the long haul, plowed on recklessly.

"Don't you understand, Edward? Don't you _get it_? She's not…she can't- she's not _one of us._ And unless you have the balls to make her one of us, what the _hell are you doing_?"

That was enough. He moved so quickly his own limbs were a blur and caught her arm in a vice-like grip. "_Don't…ever_…speak of her like that. You don't understand."

Her other hand came out of nowhere, pushing him so hard he stumbled back a few steps. Rosalie looked furious.

"I don't _understand_?" she spat. "Then please, Edward, enlighten me. What's your grand master plan? To leave her? To change her? Because I, for one, would love to know. Don't you understand how hard this is for the rest of us?"

"That's right, Rosalie," he said coldly, "I expected we would get back to your favorite topic of, oh- you."

"Instead of the constant, Edward's-In-PAIN" monologue, you mean?" she sneered. "Let her leave or let her die, Edward, but don't _keep_ her. Keeping living things will always end badly."

"Like you would know," he said softly.

_BITCH_.

They stared at each other. Edward's eyes narrowed dangerously in a mask of anger, half torn in amusement. Rosalie's nostrils flared. It was remarkable, he thought, how it made her look like an enraged bull.

Suddenly the laughter bubbled up in spite of itself. He snickered.

She looked furious.

"Bitch?" he said, feeling a full grin break out in his features.

Her mouth might have quirked in a smile, then again, it might not have. She gave an almost imperceptible shrug. The tension had seeped out of the room.

"Well," she mused. "You are."

For a second he had the incredible urge to either think of something more inflammatory or pull her hair. Maybe it was the same thing. He chuckled, half turned.

It wasn't over, of course. For Rosalie, it wouldn't be until she won. That was Rosalie.

But there could be a truce. For now.

"Stay away from my girlfriend," he stated plainly, "And I'll try and keep out of your head."

Rosalie watched him for a long moment, and immediately he had to catch himself from perusing her thoughts. Old habits were very hard to break.

"Edward," she said slowly, "you don't know what you're doing."

There was almost sympathy in her voice- a new turn of events, and a new tone for her. But there was a hard edge in it, too- she was still Rose, after all. He turned away from her.

"That's my choice," Edward said to the door, and walked away. He didn't look back.

oOo


End file.
